The Heart May Freeze, Or It Can Burn
by TheBroadwaywannabe
Summary: Because, If I lost them, that would be bad, if I lost her, that would be horrible, but if I lost YOU..." Oneshot


**Disclaimer : **Not mine

**Warning : **Language

**A/n : **that last line at the end ? Well the last one in quotation marks anyway. Mark's the one saying that. Just to clear that up

**The Heart May Freeze, Or It can Burn **

**It's not that he was afraid, **

It's not that he didn't notice

_Maybe he was just too numb too feel anymore  
__Maybe it hurt too much ……  
__Maybe he just didn't care enough._

He used to be so carefree, willing to give off affection to nearly anyone, why not survive with love when you (easily) had the capability to live by it ? He had his own ways, yes, yet he still managed to thrive with the sensation of touching, of being touched, of playful nudges, close contact and in other ways , centering you within a song or letting his guard down for once to express himself to you. Whatever form it appeared in, it was affection, and if he loved you, then he would be sure you fucking knew. He poured his whole heart and soul into anything he really meant, which could either be considered a positive aspect or a flaw.

_Maybe he had just poured his whole self out too many times  
__Maybe there was nothing left to result from it_

April, she used to loved all the attention she received from him, whenever ones presences graced the others, some sort of love had to be shown, so sort of bond had to be formed. That's just the way they were. They needed each other

And that was probably part of the reason it hurt so bad when she left. After she departed, leaving a wake of tears, addiction, disease and time bombs ticking behind her, the love just stopped. Contact was forbidden unless it be restraining him when he went into hysterics begging for a hit, or comforting him as he shook. Smiles were rare, and never reached his eyes, and he no longer believed in love, life, hope or anything but darkness.

_Maybe he was just trying to escape_

When he began to heal, he was still cold, far too cold, and although he regained the ability to show affection, he refused to, just remained stone.

_Maybe he just didn't want to feel the hurt again  
__Maybe he just didn't want to risk losing love again._

When the music started again, fleeting glimpses of faith could be caught in his eyes, a welcome change over the glistening of broken tears. Affection was voluntarily given, to anyone who pushed for it hard enough.

Anyone, save one person

_Maybe he just couldn't let go  
__Maybe he wanted to  
__Maybe he didn't dare_

When Mimi danced in, love started flowing freely again. At first, it seemed he had almost forgotten how to feel ( he still had trouble with it ) as if he had forgotten how to live and breath through love. But as time progressed he once again found pleasure is showing affection to anyone worth it, he learned loved healed and was happy to demonstrate it to almost anyone.

Except for one person.

_Maybe he cared to much  
__Or not enough  
__Maybe he didn't know  
__Or Maybe he did all to well_

As seasons changed, the will for passion grew, and each word rang out with more hope than the last, he became almost like his old self. Although his heart was no longer on his sleeve, his wall wasn't too high, if you were willing to scale the rough path to the top. And for the people already there, they felt the glow of his love, his obvious un fearing affection, and he gave this to everyone who was on the right side of the wall.

Everyone minus that same one person

_Maybe he couldn't see past the scars  
__Maybe he was running away  
__Maybe he was far too good at it_

" FUCK YES! That's amazing baby! I can't believe it I knew you had it in you!" Roger laughed excitedly picking Mimi up and twirling her in the air.

"I can't either! Broadway Roger, I'm going to dance on fucking Broadway!" The tiny dancer yelped brushing stray curls that had flown in front of her eyes. Roger lowered her down, but continued to hold and praise her for her accomplishments . Showering her in the affection he had just recently learned to let out freely again. As the lovers continued to celebrate, Mark stumbled into the loft wearily, happy to escape the heat of the city and eager to check the medicine cabinet for signs of any type of head ache reliever to lessen the pounding in his head. Relief from his mounting head pain, however, did not seem to be in his near future, for he was soon greeted with a tackling hug from Mimi causing them both to crash to the ground. He winced as they landed roughly, but forced out a laugh as he pushed Mimi off and hauled himself up to a sitting position.

"Wholly fuck, what's with the festives ?" he questioned fixing his freshly askew glasses

Mimi rebounded quickly, hopping to her feet and smiling brightly " I got a job .."

"Dancing on fucking Broadway!" Roger interrupted pulling the dancer close and fixing her lips in a deep congratulatory kiss. She returned it for a few moments, but pulled away suddenly and turned back to Mark, who was stumbling in an attempt to stand from his position on the neglected hard wood floor

"I'm in the original cast!" she squeaked, dancing around the room excitedly

"shit, Mimi that's fucking great!" Mark pulled her into a quick hug before reaching over to grab his camera out of it's case

"Can you believe it Mark? She's fucking amazing isn't she? Finally your in a place suitable for your talent babe!" Roger lifted her up again and she giggled loudly causing Roger to laugh and kiss her in return. Mark finally managed to pull his camera out of its bag, sending a few papers that he been residing there fluttering to the ground. Mimi wiggled out of Rogers grasp and laughed loudly, stumbling over to the now wound camera and smiling into it.

"July 12 1992 , 8:156 Eastern standard time.."

"I got a job on Broadway!!" Mimi shrieked again , jumping around a few feet from the cameras lens

"In the original cast!" Roger added creeping up behind Mimi and wrapping his arms around her tiny waist. They excitedly conversed the few details she had been provided for a few minutes, before the dancer pulled away from her lovers arms.

"Hey Mark" She murmured bending over and retrieving a brightly colored paper from the floor "What's this ?"

"Oh that? that's nothings important really"

"Looks pretty important to me" Mimi persisted as she scanned the paper.

"I just finished a screen play I've been working on and sent it in a few places about a month ago. A couple of them responded, I went to a few meetings and I got a contract with one " He shrugged " they just signed the final papers a few hours ago" he continued casually "its not nearly as important as what you.." But he was harshly interrupted by a shrill cry from Mimi, and her pouncing on him again, this time fully wrapping her legs around his lower torso

"OH MY FUCKING GOD MARK THAT'S AMAZING!" She cried, clinging to him tightly "how long had you been working on that screen play?!??!?"

" Oh uh… 3 years" He murmured shyly , trying to force down his worsening head ache with a laugh. Mimi screamed again. That was helping

"Wholly shit Mark that's a huge deal!!!!!! Why didn't you tell us!?! What company did you sign with ?"

"Universal" He murmured apprehensively shutting his eyes tightly in preparation for the screech he was sure was about to shatter his ear drums. Instead the dancer loosened her grip on him and dropped to her feet. Her expression was completely blank, as she pushed by two confused men and began to sashay across the loft. She made her way over to the large window, and, still emotionless, unlatched it. She climbed out onto the fire escape and stood for a few moments staring below her at the crowed city streets. She then turned her face to the sky and threw her arms back.

And she screamed.

She released a bloody murder scream, loud enough to stir fellow bohemians from their prior activities and quite sections of the streets below. She screamed this way, without any interruption for breath, until her throat went raw and her ears were ringing. She then proceeded to climb back in through the window, leaving it open with the idea of cooling down the stuffy loft, and raced back over to wrap her arms around Mark again squeezing him tightly one last time before pulling away, planting a large kiss on his forehead and going back to prancing around the loft. Once the boys had recovered from the shock of her performance, Roger quickly smiled at Mark and then turned back to Mimi saying something about calling the others for a party and making his way to the phone . Mimi and Mark chattered excitedly to each other and the filmmakers camera, both seemingly unaware of Roger's lack of enthusiasm for his best friend

_Maybe he was terrified  
__Maybe he had lost too much  
__Maybe he didn't want to admit it_

The party had settled down long ago, leaving a residue of a trashed loft strewn with red cups and exhausted inhabits. All, in acceptation of Collins and of course Mark and Roger, had departed long ago, home to nurse there soon coming hang overs and downstairs to sleep it off without "Roger's obscenely loud snoring". Collins was slouched on the sofa, fighting the overwhelming urge to pass out in his current position. He had to get home tonight, he had an extremely important lecture scheduled the next morning, and would never make it on time if he stayed here. No, he had to get home. If only he could get up. He moaned loudly and, with much effort, lifted his heavy head to take in his surroundings. Mark was draped over an old worn recliner chair and Roger was sprawled out on the floor next to the coffee table. Both seemed to conscious, but just barely. Collins scanned both the boy's over once again, this time studying each one more carefully. In the process of doing so, his mind once again reverted back to the familiar question that had been in heavy circulation for years.

Why?

Why was Roger so terrified of ever showing the slights pride, or love, or affection, or even CARING toward Mark ?

Mark his best friend and roommate for years, Mark who Roger owed his whole fucking life to

Why did Roger refuse, completely, to show the slightest signs of caring the least bit to Mark?

In fact he often did the opposites, making rude jokes and teasing , even today, Mark had made one of the biggest break throughs of his life and Roger has even resorted to making a joke or two. Yet, he congratulated Mimi to NO extent, no one could go five minutes without hearing some form of bragging or congratulating or affection toward the dancer. He even congratulated Collins himself extensively for the lecture he was to give tomorrow. Roger had no problems displaying affection to his closet friends( even Maureen) at any given time.

Accept the one who deserved it the most.

_Maybe it was intentional  
__Maybe he hated the inevitable  
__Maybe he wished with everything he had it could be different _

"Hey Rog?" A groan

"Yeah Tom?"

"Why are you such a fuck wad?"

"What?

"Why can't you ever at least show the slightest amount of pride for Mark? Especially today ?"

Silence

Deafening silence.

"Roger ?"

"What do you mean ?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

"Is this really any of your business?"

"I'm going home, ass hole"

Foot steps

A door sliding shut

Silence

Roger stood and let out a exasperated sigh before he began making his way over to the door of his room. He was stopped, however, by a voice penetrating the heaviness that had settled it self over the loft.

"Roger?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you hate me so much?"

_Maybe it wasn't the truth  
__Maybe he was holding back_

The Rocker whirled back around and was met with two familiar blue pools staring back at him.

But something unfamiliar was reflecting in their blue depths.

A vague drip of hurt? A distorted haze of emotion?

"What ?" A snort followed by an airy voice

"You fucking heard me"

"How the hell could you even think I hate you ?"

_Maybe he couldn't see  
__Maybe he couldn't feel  
__Maybe he was just too unsure_

"The why can't you show anything toward me? Anything besides sarcasm or bitterness ? I don't ask for a lot Roger. So why the hell not ? Why cant you at least seem a little enthused or proud of me for once ? Why can't you show at least he most subtle sign of giving at least half a shit about me ? Can please just do something ? Anything. Break down and tell me you hate me! At least there would be some passion in it."

Roger scoffed and moved in closer to his best friend, who was also now on his feet. Eyes ablaze and venom playing amongst his lips, the guitarist's eyes tinged with raw emotion, which was usually extinguished under a cold mask.

_Maybe he wasn't brave enough  
__Maybe he didn't was to risk losing his world  
__Maybe he knew the end of it was drawing too near_

"You want to know why Mark ? You wanna know fucking why ?" He began closing in on the younger man, fire radiating from his eyes " Because everything I ever care about, everything I show godamn love for is always somehow fucked up . Okay ? Anything I ever dare to give a shit about is always taken away from me. ANYONE I ever care about, I always manage to fuck up alright? So if I risk caring about you, or showing I do, then you will, in some way or another, get fucked up or taken away."

"That's such bullshit."

"Oh really?"

_Maybe it was all he had  
__Maybe he knew how right he was  
__Maybe he didn't realize how wrong _

"Why can you show everyone else affection then huh ? Why can you go around congratulating everyone and hugging Collins, and throwing celebrations for Maureen, and lying crammed on the sofa with Joanne, and kissing and showering Mimi in attention, and mourning so profoundly for Angel and reminding every one that you love them on a regular basis. And you cant even say ' good job Mark' to me? You have to shun me and make fun of me, why the fuck is that then Roger?"

_Maybe he was nearing a breaking point  
__Maybe he had always been on the edge  
__Maybe he remembered to well  
__Maybe he forgot too much_

Silence

A silence so defining it roared in your ears

A silence that screamed the truth

"Because" Roger snapped "Because If I lose them, that's bad. If I lose Collins or Maureen or Joanne or Nevan or Molly or Sarah. That's Bad. If I lose Mimi, that's horrible, But If I lose **you**.."

Silence

Foot steps

A door closing

Mark standing silently amidst the clutter of the loft, his eyes fixated blankly on Roger's closed door.

"I'd Die"

**It's that he was in love **


End file.
